


Virgil Knight is a Right Mess

by Creative__Writing



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff, First time for a Sander Sides fic? yes, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, It's late, M/M, No Angst, Patton Currie, Patton is maybe 24, Patton is not, Patton is taller than Virgil, Slice of Life, They live up north, Virgil Knight - Freeform, Virgil is from Florida, Virgil is probably 21-22, snapshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative__Writing/pseuds/Creative__Writing
Summary: “Virgil, may God help me- you don’t go on the counter!”________________________________________________________________“I’m playing ‘How Long Can Virgil Go Without Sleep?’”“Banned. Blocked. No more.”________________________________________________________________





	Virgil Knight is a Right Mess

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be about how Virgil can't sleep because I told my friend we should see how long I can go without sleep and she immediately spammed me with 'no no non ononono' (love u shelf). So... this happened and it went completely off topic. Anyway- enjoy! If you spot any errors, place dishonour on me.

They were walking across a path in one of the local parks. Trees surrounded both sides of them, and with a thick layer of snow the two were trudging through, it was oddly serene. Of course, Patton had grown up in cottage country, he was used to frigid temperatures and walking through way too much fucking snow. The shorter of the two, however? Not so much. Had Virgil not been holding hands with the other, it wouldn’t have been unlikely he fell behind- whether it be because he was cold or because of some childlike wonder at all the crystallized snow was anyone’s guess. 

The crunch of the ground giving way under the couple’s weight came to a halt as Patton did. “Look, Virge!” He whispered excitedly, crouching closer to the ground than the previously called male would ever deem necessary. Virgil leaned over slightly anyway, if to appease his adorable boyfriend. 

“Yeah- that’s a rabbit, Pat.” He nodded. 

There was a snort of laughter, “Don’t you think that’s a little exciting?” Patton urged, “Look! He looks like you!”

Virgil blinked once. Then twice. He glanced from the rabbit who remained blissfully unaware of their presence to his boyfriend. “The… animal looks like me?” There was an unbelieving, sort of astonishment in his voice, really uncalled for, seeing as how often he was described by the friend group as various soft creatures.

There was a nod, and suddenly a phone was being pointed at Virgil, who hardly had enough time to realize what was happening before the sound of the fake ‘click’ came from the offending piece of technology. Patton faked a sneeze to cover up the noise, jokingly. 

That spooked the rabbit (affectionately dubbed Roger by the elder), as it went bounding off, much to Patton’s chagrin. He shook his off fairly quickly once the photo went back into his mind. “Look!” He exclaimed. The screen was thrusted at Virgil. 

The photo wasn’t awful, seeing as it as taken on a mobile phone. There was a space between Virgil and the small animal, which allowed the space for eyes to draw to the focal points. Both beings, human and otherwise, looked as though they were caught off guard, and the flush on the emo’s face from the cold allowed his nose to resemble the pink one that adorned Roger. 

“ _ Pat _ -.” No, he didn’t whine, no matter what his boyfriend would argue. “Delete it!” 

Somehow, the male was a solid five steps or so ahead of Virgil. “I can’t hear you over the sound of me setting a new lockscreen!” There was a teasing lilt to Patton’s voice, one that made the other smile- followed by a yawn. 

“Fine- but we should head back. We’ve been out here for  _ hours _ .” 

“It’s been maybe thirty minutes-”

“ _ Hours _ , Patton.  _ Hours. _ ”

* * *

Virgil was terrible at sleeping. Everyone knew it- the bags under his eyes couldn’t lie. Of course, just because it was common knowledge that the purple haired man couldn’t sleep didn’t mean that it didn’t stop his lovely boyfriend from worrying.

Almost immediately after arriving back to their shared apartment, the younger of the two had flopped onto the small couch (it was more of a loveseat, but it’s fine. It served the purpose of a couch). Patton had watched on with concern, but even with the fatigued demeanor, Virgil failed to actually nap. He’d close his eyes for awhile, attempting to even his breathing and it just wouldn’t work. 

Eventually, the Florida-native gave up his conquest to sleep, instead deciding that he would graciously help Patton in the kitchen to make dinner. 

* * *

“Virgil, may God help me- you don’t  _ go  _ on the counter!” The tone used was one of both pure exasperation and intense amusement as the criminal’s legs were swatted at.

The other only grinned cheekily. “I know it may seem that way, good Sir, however I beg to differ. I do, very clearly, go here, displayed by me fitting perfectly.” 

Patton sighed, “When did I get a cat?” 

“A couple years ago,” He fingergunned. 

“You’ve developed a…”

“Don’t.” Virgil warned. 

“Cat-”

“Pat, if you love me you will not finish that sentence.”

“Cattitude.” Virgil groaned.

* * *

College is a bitch, plain and simple. Here Virgil was, after campus had been closed for days due to heavy snowfall, doing three different projects at the same time.

“Why does the world hate me?”

“You could’ve done these not tonight- you had almost a month,” Patton reminded from his spot on the couch. Between his legs, Virgil sat propped against the bottom of the loveseat, his laptop on and running vehemently with various sheets strewn around.

“It’s too late for reason,” Virgil groaned. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “I have until 11:59pm tomorrow. I need coffee.” 

“Virge-” 

“Coffee.”

“Virgil.”

“Beans.”

“Virgil James Knight.” 

“Patton Arthur Currie.” 

“Sit down. You need sleep.” 

“I’m playing ‘How Long Can Virgil Go Without Sleep?’”

“Banned. Blocked. No more.”

“What do you-  _ Pat! _ ” And thus, the shorter of the two, who was only really shorter by maybe an inch or two, was sweeped away. Sleep well, Virge.


End file.
